Night on the Town
by ALC Punk
Summary: Preseries, Helo and Starbuck offduty meet a young pilotintraining named Sharon Valerii.


Disclaimer: not mine. Rating: 13+ language, blah.  
Length: 1,810 Set: pre-series/mini For the Boomer/Helo ficathon, for: Claira (starslikedust)  
Who wanted: subtext, backstory (er... I tried)  
And didn't want: fluff (it skirts)  
Pairings, if you squint: Boomer/rapter, Boomer/Helo, Boomer/Kara, Kara/Helo, Kara/cigars/ambrosia.  
Notes; I have given up on trying to make this better (or worse), and figure, at the end of the day it's not as bad as it was at first. Parts were written whilst watching Foyle's War, and thus, the phrasing got a bit, er, British. 

**Night on the Town**  
_by ALC Punk!_

The bar was called The Parrot, and it was slightly disreputable. Its clientele was mainly off-duty fleet NCOs, the occasional officer and some of the pilots who liked slumming or were just in it all for a good time.

"There's no wars anymore, not really. Sure there's idiots like Tom Zarek--"

"He's been shacked up somewhere, though."

The voices drifted over to where Sharon Valerii was sitting at a table all by herself. She'd come to this bar, because someone in her class had mentioned that pilots from the battlestars frequented it. And since Sharon was determined to be a pilot, she figured she belonged there.

No one had noticed her, though.

"So, then," a woman said, laughter in her voice as she stopped right in front of Sharon's table. She wasn't very tall, but she seemed full of energy. The man with her was taller and well-built, and hovered as if he expected her to fall over. "Breaker says, she says--" She stopped talking, her voice dissolving into laughter as she grabbed the table to hold herself up.

"'Buck, you're drunk."

"You don't say, Helo."

He snorted, and glanced at Sharon. "Sorry, kid."

"Sharon." She said quickly, smiling.

His eyes were kind as he grinned at her, "Helo. And this is Starbuck."

Sharon's eyes widened. "The Starbuck?"

A smirk appeared on Starbuck's lips, and she pulled away and flopped down in the chair next to Sharon. "Yep, honey, THE Starbuck."

"Um. Hi."

Starbuck laughed again, "You're cute, but you're a mouse, honey." She patted Sharon's shoulder and looked at Helo. "Helo, I say we push on. There's a mile of ambrosia beggin' my name."

"More?" Helo whined, but he reached out and helped her to her feet. "Take care, kid." He winked at Sharon, then hauled Starbuck off.

Sharon looked after them for a moment, then shook her head, amused at the antics of the pilots whose ranks she would one day be joining. If this was the life, she figured she was all for it.

--

Three nights later, Sharon let herself go back. All her class work was done, her room was clean and she figured she'd earned it. Walking in, she was surprised when a hand clapped on her shoulder. "Hey, Sharon."

Starbuck wasn't drunk this time, but she was laughing.

"Hi."

The pilot laughed, "You really are just a kid, aren't you?"

"I'm not a kid," Sharon tried not to sound indignant, but failed.

"Fine, fine." Starbuck shook her head. "You're new, though, honey. I can smell the shiny."

Sharon shrugged, "Can't help that, sir."

"Don't sir me, kid."

"Don't call me a kid."

Starbuck laughed and clapped her on the back. "What do you do for fun, Sharon?"

"Fun?"

"Yeah, you know, fun. Dance, eat, drink, brawl, frak? After all, if you're going to become a pilot, you gotta live life to the fullest."

Sharon blinked, "How do you know that?"

"Well, you're here, aren't you?"

"There are more than pilots here," Sharon pointed out, feeling that logic might be useful when confronted with the confusing chaos of Starbuck.

"Yeah, but, kid, you got that look." Turning away, Starbuck called for a drink.

"What look?"

The pilot shrugged. "Never mind. So, your name is Sharon, huh?"

"Are you drunk, Starbuck?"

"Nope." Starbuck grinned, her teeth flashing. "But I'll get there." She pulled out a cigar and stuck it between her lips. "You smoke?"

"Er, no."

"Pity. Hey, anybody gotta light?"

It amazed Sharon that Starbuck could talk with the thing in her mouth without it affecting her speech at all.

Someone had a light, Sharon didn't notice who. She was too busy trying to decide if Starbuck was larger than life, or just another pilot. As the night went on, she refined her opinion. The other woman was brash, arrogant, crude, rude and an ass. But there was something likable about her, and so when the dawn was breaking and Starbuck was leaning against her with alcohol-scented breath, she didn't just shove her away.

"Nice kid."

"You're drunk."

"Nah. He's--" Starbuck's finger pointed haphazardly towards the bar, missing by a mile the man passed out on a table. "--drunk."

"Uh-huh."

"You're a nice kid."

"You said that already." Several times, in fact, and it was beginning to grate on her nerves.

"Yeah."

Sharon stood and hauled Starbuck to her feet. "C'mon, I'll walk you home, sir."

"No sir. Just Starbuck." Slinging her arm around Sharon, she began singing. Her voice was terrible, and half the words were garbled. As they made their way down one street and up another, Sharon did her best not to get dragged into the song herself. "See the little gobliiiiin..."

Which was difficult since it was an insidious little ditty that was catchy as all hell.

"Here." Starbuck stopped them. "M'place."

It was a derelict building, and Sharon negotiated their way through the front hall by ignoring the wino sleeping on the steps and the pile of trash cluttering one side of the front entryway. They stopped at a door and Starbuck kicked it.

"Keys." suggested Sharon dryly.

"Oh! Right." Starbuck let her go and fumbled around in her own pockets, finally coming up with a set of keys. A goofy smile touched her lips. "Keys." She gave a grunt and suddenly sat down on the floor, looking almost asleep.

With a sigh, Sharon took them from her quickly finding the one that unlocked the door.

Hauling Starbuck back to her feet, Sharon got them inside and kicked the door shut. They stumbled through a pile of empty take-out cartons for several steps and then they came up against a ratty couch. Starbuck released Sharon and half-fell, half-sat, flopping sideways. "Thanks, kid."

Giving up on correcting the error in nomenclature, Sharon shrugged, "Don't mention it, sir."

"Not a sir."

With a shake of her head, Sharon headed for the door, keys still in hand. "Good night, Starbuck."

"Night."

Eyeing the locking mechanism, Sharon pondered for a moment, then shrugged. She'd rather Starbuck not get molested than her stuff get stolen. Closing the door, she locked both locks and pocketed the keys. She'd come back sometime the next day and return them.

--

"Hey, Sharon!"

The shout came from across the street and Sharon looked up to find Helo waving at her, a grin on his face. She checked the traffic and then dodged across to meet him. "Hey, Helo."

"Hey." He grinned wider, "So, Starbuck says you stole her keys."

"Well, not exactly." Unable to resist an answering grin, she dug in her pocket and pulled out the keys. "I just thought it would be safer to, ah, lock the door. Since I didn't think she could." She was trying to carefully not say the pilot had been falling-down drunk.

"Hey," he reached out and lightly punched her shoulder. "I know how Kara is when she's drunk."

"Well, so... That's why I took them." She handed them over to him.

"So, you wanna be a pilot?" He pocketed them and shoved his hands in his pockets, still smiling.

"I think so, yeah. To, you know, be out there, leading the charge. So to speak." Sharon hoped she didn't sound like a stupid kid. "I want to be in charge."

"Viper or raptor?"

"Raptor. I don't have the chops for a viper, and I know it." She flushed at her own deprecation and looked down.

"Hey, sometimes it's good to know our own limits." Without giving her a moment to answer, he moved and slung an arm around her shoulder. "I mean, I've flown vipers and raptors, but I'm probably going to end up an ECO anyway."

"You like being in charge of the comm drones?" She teased, glancing sideways at him.

"Well, that, and the missile-disruptors, flak drones..." Tugging her along with him, he began walking. "Look, let me buy you lunch to thank you for keeping Kara from coming to grief last night."

Sharon didn't have to think twice. "All right."

"And you can tell me why you like raptors instead of vipers."

"They're sexier."

Helo laughed, "Oh, this I gotta hear. Because Starbuck swears it's the other way around."

"Oh, vipers are nice, but they don't have any stamina." Sharon informed him, trying not to laugh.

Another guffaw escaped him, and he looked at her with a grin. "I definitely think I'm gonna like you, Sharon."

"I think I like you, Helo."

"Call me Karl."

"Karl." For a moment, they were smiling at each other, and Sharon felt something in her gut twist and clench. Then she looked away and spotted her favorite diner. "Just in time to escape the lunch crowd."

"What, here?"

"Yeah. They have the best home-made shakes and burgers you've ever tasted."

With a grin, Helo dropped his arm from her shoulders and caught her hand. "C'mon, then, show me."

And she did. They spent the afternoon chattering like old friends, Helo told her about his family (three siblings, and a father who loved to farm while his mother was a businesswoman for some conglomerate), she told him about the loss of her own (so long ago, she barely remembered them). He teased her about being a brat, she told him he was a farm-hand, and they both laughed.

The evening approached, and Helo (Karl) finally seemed to notice. "I should, ah, take Starbuck her keys."

"And I need to get back." She considered asking, but decided she didn't want to know if she'd see him again. Besides, he'd said something about shipping out soon. "It was nice. Talking with you."

"Yeah. You, too."

They stood outside the diner for a moment, then he leaned over and kissed her gently. "I'll, ah, see you."

"Not if I see you first," she quipped.

He laughed like he was supposed to, then began backing up, watching her as he walked away. "Don't know how long it'll be."

"Not like there's a war on, Helo." She teased him. "You can't die."

"Starbuck would make disparaging remarks about my luck."

"She should."

He clapped a hand to his chest. "I'm wounded!"

A giggle escaped her, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. "Go away, Helo. Or Starbuck'll skin you alive for making her wait so long."

"Fine, fine, I know when I'm not wanted."

"You'd better."

He laughed, then turned and began jogging.

Sharon watched until he'd disappeared around a corner. Then she heaved a sigh, and regretted her lack of gumption. But she didn't want to just throw herself at the first guy, did she? After all, what she really needed was stability, not some quick-talking pilot, who'd dump her in two weeks.

A bittersweet smile touched her lips as she turned and walked towards her own room. It might've ended in tears, but it would sure have been a damned fun two weeks.

-f-


End file.
